Closed
by CynicAlb
Summary: Daniel goes home to find his house occupied, and Mitchell learns a lesson in how to survive SG1. Short one shot story tag for Beachhead. Please RR thanks.


Disclaimer: If I owned them I wouldn't be sitting in an office writing this, now would I? Oh wait, never mind. No not mine, it's a shame I'd take good care of them.

Closed

By Cynicalb

Tag for Beachhead

Spoilers: Beachhead, and everything else

Summary: Daniel goes home to find his house occupied, and Mitchell learns a lesson in how to survive SG-1

Genre: Gen

Type: Episode Tag, little angst, little humor (I hope), lots of Daniel

Daniel rolled his window down letting in the cool night air trying to wake up a little, he grimaced thinking that Janet would never have let him out the infirmary this soon, and if she had she would have insisted on a driver. But Janet's gone, he thought steeling himself to the reality and Lam had actually given into his half-ass whining and rubber stamped him to go home.

Daniel realized that she was just probably sick of the sight of him after being stuck on base for over a month, and most of that time in and out the infirmary. Glad to be rid of me, he thought yawning relieved he turned on to his street and pulled into the driveway. He stumbled up to the door fumbling with his keys and noticed to his dismay the furniture through the window covered in dust sheets. The house was closed up dormant until he got back from Atlantis. He hadn't even been home since before Vala had come to call. He opened the door and stepped into the darkened hallway. He flipped the switch before he remembered he'd canceled the electricity, the gas and the phone. Though because his water came from a well he would at least be able to flush the toilet and have a shower, albeit a cold one.

He shook his head, it was late and he wasn't coherent enough to open the house now. Daniel crossed the living room toward his bedroom but then thought better of it knowing the bed wasn't made. He dragged away the nearest dustsheet; the large couch would do; at least, he thought, until the world stops doing these slow 180's. Daniel collapsed on the couch and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Two teenagers jumped over the fence at the back of Daniel's yard.

"Trust me," said the girl, taking her anxious boyfriend by the hand. "This guy's gone out to town for while; the place is perfect it's completely closed down."

"I'm not sure about this Claire." He said looking around warily. "What if he comes home?"

"He works up at the mountain, doesn't keep regular hours gone for days sometimes weeks at a time." Claire whispered as she climbed the back steps and pushed the door open.

"How do you know?" Claire gave him a withering look.

"I know stuff."

"What makes you so sure he's not just going to turn up?" The boy, Jake, whispered following her.

"Because he closed the place down this time; cut the utilities and cleaned the place out. Look it's covered in dust sheets." They had come in to the kitchen and he could see that everything was indeed covered.

"Okay," he said and followed her out to the living room. Claire stopped dead in her tracks. There sprawled unconscious on the couch was a very tired and rumpled looking Daniel Jackson.

"Damn," said Claire half-scared of being caught half-checking out the man laid out before her. He's cute asleep, she thought, but remembering her company didn't voice the observation.

"Let's go," Whispered Jake urgently dragging Claire back the way they came, but it was too late. Daniel sat up abruptly eyes wide open squinting in the darkness.

"Who's there?" he called hoarsely, looking around for the source of the voices. The darkness compounded by a major headache and no glasses made it difficult for the archeologist to see the two figures back out into the kitchen. He did see movement and stood to get a closer look. The room did a slow loop, and then settled. The energy that had gotten the man awake was now waning and he didn't have the mental capacity to deal with a burglar especially when he knew anything of value had been put into storage long ago.

"Take what you want." He called, "if you can find anything." He muttered to himself. "I've had a long day," he said trying his hardest to stay coherent. "Am, juss gonna…" he didn't finish the sentence as his body crumpled to the floor.

"Mister Jackson?" called Claire worried the man had sounded ill and then just stopped.

"Come on Claire let's go." Jake tugged on her arm, but Claire pulled away from him.

"What if he's sick?" she hissed at him walking back towards the living room.

"Then someone will find him tomorrow." He said gesturing to the back door, "Come on, he probably just fell back to sleep."

"I need to make sure."

"Okay," he said, "but I'm out."

"Bye," she said turning her back on him and entering the living room.

Daniel was curled up on the floor his breathing shallow rapid, Claire quickly assessed that the man hadn't hit his head, but neither would he wake up. Worried she wondered if she should call 911, but put that aside as a last resort she had no desire to add break and entering to her resume.

"How is he?" asked Jake handing her a pillow. She smiled accepting the apology and placing the cushion under Daniel's head.

"Out cold as far as I can tell; he didn't hit his head and I can't really see to look for injuries." As that Jake got up rummaged around in the kitchen for a moment and returned with a couple of candles.

"These do?" he asked lighting them, a couple on the coffee table and one on the mantle.

"It'll have to." she sighed the candlelight flickered eerily over the sleeping man's face so all at once he was young, but so old at the same time. "We should call someone." she said not looking up.

"Call who? The police?"

"No, I think he just needs to sleep it off, but someone should watch him."

"Check his pockets does he have a cell phone?" Claire cautiously patted him down; she pulled out the device and handed it over. "Check his call log; see who he's called the most recently."

"Okay, let's see," Jake scrolled through the list. "Looks like he's playing phone tag with someone named Jack."

"So call it."

"It's two 'o' clock in the morning do you think he'll be up?"

"Just give it here." Claire took the phone and hit send for 'Jack' a few rings later and an angry gruff voice answered.

"There had better have been a massive global attack to get me up at this hour Daniel." Claire swallowed she hadn't anticipated this 'Jack' knowing who was calling. "Daniel?" the man, Jack she assumed, was still waiting for an answer.

"Hi," she said tentatively.

"Who is this?"

"Is this Jack?"

"Who is this and why do you have Dr Jackson's cell phone?"

"Okay, so I've been kind of squatting in Mister Jackson's house while he's away but he came back tonight."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, nothing he's just sick I guess he passed out and I didn't want to leave him here without telling anyone in case something did happen to him." There was silence on the other end, "hello? Er Jack?" The man sighed.

"I'm not in the area right now," he said remorse filled his voice, "but someone will be there in twenty minutes." He paused. "Thank you," he said "for not just leaving."

"Mister Jackson's always been nice to me, I figure I owe him this much."

"Yeah," said Jack, and hung up. Claire looked down at Daniel putting her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

"Someone will be here soon Mister Jackson." She said.

"We should go," said Jake, "we've already gone beyond what most people would have done."

"Yeah, well I owe him."

"What?"

"You know how I sit out on Burke Street by that coffee shop?"

"Yeah,"

"Well, whenever he's there he always buys me a coffee."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's really nice about it too, never gets any ideas just gives me a coffee when he passes."

"That's weird."

"I prefer to think of it as proof that the whole world hasn't gone to hell." Jake smiled.

"Just most of it."

Jack sighed and threw off the covers.

"Damn it Daniel, why were you even out of the infirmary?" within minutes the General had called Sam, Landry and Dr Lam and let them know the situation. He made sure Lam knew how he felt about the way she ran her infirmary. He was not pleased at all. Briefly Jack toyed with the idea of calling Mitchell, but vetoed it if Landry wanted him involved he'd be there otherwise he would know soon enough.

Sam answered the call half asleep, but all she needed to hear was Daniel needs help and she was half dressed before the receiver hit the cradle. Damn the man she thought, why couldn't he have just stayed on base?

Claire heard a motorbike, roar up the street and then pull into Daniel's driveway. Within seconds both she and Jake were out back and over the fence. Sam dismounted and took off her helmet. The front door was unlocked and she could see candlelight in the living room. She sighed seeing her friend lay on the floor. "Daniel," she whispered "what am I going to do with you?" She checked his vitals, and was reassured by the soft thump of his heartbeat, she felt his forehead he was warm but not overly so. She checked for injures, and found none but what was most worrying was all through her ministrations he didn't stir. Sam leaned back on the base of the couch a hand absently rubbing Daniel's arm. It would be a few minutes before the medic-van got here and as far as she could see there was no need for them to be hurried. "I really need you to wake up now Daniel." she said pinching his arm to see if that would wake him. Daniel abruptly moved out of her touch rolling on to his side he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like:

"Vala, go back to your own room." And then he was out again, Sam laughed and blushed embarrassed for her friend.

"General he's a grown man; I trusted that he felt well enough to return home."

"He's Daniel Jackson." Came the gruff answer to the Doctor's indignation, but there was no more as if that assertion explained everything. Lam glared at the general before her, but being that he wasn't her father she couldn't dismiss him as she had been doing to the commander of the base.

"General O'Neill I examined Dr Jackson upon his return, I suggest he stay under observation, but ultimately agreed that he would better rest in his own bed."

"What you have to understand Doctor, is that Daniel Jackson sees himself not as a one of the most senior and respected member of this command, but as a burden that no one has seen fit to discard as of yet, largely because he takes it upon himself to do and fix everything for himself. Daniel Jackson will not complain of an injury unless he's on the verge of collapse and then he'll apologize for the inconvenience of your having to step around him." Dr Lam stared at him in disbelief, her experience with Dr Jackson was limited to his pre/post-mission exams and the three or four times he'd become catatonic when connected to Vala. She knew military men had a tendency, for stoicism but that was ridiculous.

"I highly doubt it would be anywhere near as bad as that General." She said without much conviction. She had found that breaking the connection caused the linked bodies to release a chemical in the blood stream that suppressed all the bodies' major functions and in enough quantities could kill. The effects were wearing off for Jackson so the chemical released acted more like a powerful sedative. She should have insisted he stayed but he was alert and aware and she couldn't think of a reason to keep him. Jack just stared at the doctor missing Janet more than ever because she would have understood and stopped him from leaving in the first place.

Abruptly the general left Doctor Lam to figure out her error and walked to the other side of the infirmary where the rest of the shattered SG-1 one stood waiting as usual for their archeologist to awake.

"General," said Sam smiling tightly.

"O'Neill," Teal'c bowed his head, damn I'm never going to get used to the hair, thought Jack. Jack returned the gestures nodding his head toward the bed.

"How is he?"

"Daniel Jackson is resting O'Neill; the last of the connection seems to be wearing off."

"He's been in and out all day," Sam suppressed a smile, "Dr Lam thinks he'll be fine." Jack scowled at the doctor's mention.

"I had high hopes for her, but she shouldn't have let him go home last night."

"She couldn't have known sir," still not smiling in spite of herself. "And you know what Daniel's like."

"Yeah," said Jack, "Don't we all. I can't believe he drove himself home like this, what was he thinking?" Sam let go and smiled, "What's up with you Carter you've been trying your hardest not to grin since I got here."

"It's nothing sir, just something Daniel said when I went to check on him last night." Jack smiled too.

"He was talking in his sleep?" sharing a tent with the man for five years gave Jack an idea of what he could have said and it wasn't all good, but since Sam was smiling he knew it must have been juicy.

"Well, I pinched him to get him to wake up, but all he did was roll over and say, 'Vala go back to your own room.'" Jack's grin widened and he got an evil glint in his eye. Oh, this was good, this was so good.

"What's going on?" a voice came from the bed besides them. Daniel took in the scene before him, Jack grinning evilly and Sam on the verge of tears laughing so hard and Teal'c looking down on him with an indulgent smile. "Can't have been that bad," he said "if you're all grinning like Cheshire cats." He eyed them suspiciously, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," said Sam looking as if she's burst any second, "go back to sleep."

"Yeah," said Jack, "you should get some rest you've been all go since before the Dedalus left." But Daniel's eyelids were drooping already, and he didn't have enough synapses left to figure out why his friends were so weird, but it was nice he thought before sleep claimed him again, that they were here.

Cameron Mitchell walked into the infirmary a few moments later to find Sam leaning on Teal'c to catch her breath, and Jack rubbing tears from eyes from laughing so hard. The weirdest thing though, wasn't the huge grin sported by the normally stoic Jaffa, but that they were stood there by the unconscious Jackson's bed. I guess he's alright thought Mitchell pivoting out of the room. The General did warn him he remembered when they spoke while enjoying his 'surprise'.

"Mitchell," he said, "SG-1's been together eight years."

"I know sir, they're the best."

"Yes, and in being the best they're a little nuts." Mitchell frowned at the term.

"What's your point sir?"

"My point is Colonel," he paused considering how to phrase it. "To be on SG-1 you need to be…"

"Nuts?" Jack smiled.

"It helps," he said then got serious. "There's a lot out there Mitchell, a lot of it's amazing spinning weird wicked wonderland stuff, there's boring stuff; just ask Daniel, and then there's the bad stuff, Daniel can help you there too, but in spite of it all in the face of everything that comes through that gate and what you meet on the other side regardless of everything there's one thing that you have to do that's vital to surviving on SG-1." Mitchell sensed a set up but figured he could use the help so he said.

"What's that?"

"Laugh," said Jack.

"Sir?"

"You've go to have a sense of humor about what we do Colonel, because at the end of the day if you can't laugh, or at least smile you'll crack and it won't be pretty." Mitchell could tell, the general was being serious and decided to keep it in mind for his dealings with SG-1.

Suddenly, Mitchell realized how true those words had been not just from the display in the infirmary, but when Jackson had woken up on Prometheus and made the joke about sending the Ori a message. It was all a façade, a shield to deflect the pain. Mitchell wondered how well it worked for them, to hide from the reality even in that small way, or perhaps it was necessary as O'Neill had said there was a lot out there, so they found a way to deal with it. Heck, he thought they're still here so it must work, and maybe I'll be laughing in the face of my next near death experience. Mitchell grimaced, or maybe not.


End file.
